


30 Days of Valar Headcanons

by AllonsyMiddleEarth



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Tolkien, Valar - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3916915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllonsyMiddleEarth/pseuds/AllonsyMiddleEarth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Favorite Canon pairing: </p><p>Yavanna/Aulë, of course!! I love the headcanon that they fight all the time over semi-unimportant things. They are an old married couple… they love each other more than anything, but they bicker like two passionate, cranky, incredibly powerful gods, too. They do recognize that their creations aren’t always going to mesh, (See: Ents/dwarves.) Like when Yavanna tells Aulë “But because you hid this from me” it shows that when they do work together, they can create things harmoniously, and they know that. But they’re really passionate about everything they do, at least enough to not always want to compromise. So, I think they still get defensive of their creations from time to time.</p><p>I’m pretty sure variations of this exact scenario happen at least once an age:</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Grief (Yavanna/Aulë)

**1\. Your favorite female Vala**

I headcanon that Yavanna has a connection with all her living creations that she can at least vaguely feel their life/death, constantly. After a looong time of this I think she gets used to it, and she can control where and when she casts her thought and can tune in or out whatever she wants to, but at first this might have been overwhelming.   
I headcanon that when the Ainur first entered Arda their understanding of pretty much everything was really vague. So Yavanna knew how to think about creating life, bacteria and plants and animals, but she didn’t really know what emotions were- they’re experiencing everything about being an actual part of Arda as they go, even if they are angelic beings that sang it into existence.   
  
So here is a fic about Yavanna discovering some emotions! 

~~_______________________________________________________________________________________~~

Something had been… off. Yavanna didn’t know what this new feeling was. At first she had just been mentally checking on her patches of life across the land, early bits of her creations. But when had she cast her thought to a particular grove all she felt had been sharp pains to her very core, nothing like the calm peace and fullness checking on life in other places usually gave her.  
  
None of that had prepared her for the sight ahead when she reached that particular grove, though. What had been deeply green and lively was now just… dead. Everything in a mile radius had been burned to a crisp, olvar trampled as if beat down with something impossibly large and heavy.  
  
“No…” Yavanna sank slowly to the ground in the midst of charred, smashed remains of what had been green and full of life just days before. She could feel shaking in the form she’d chosen, like that the Children would have but stronger, and also with elements of her creations, like her limbs made much like green vines.  
  
Tears were slipping down her cheeks and she felt a sob rip from deep inside her. She knew this, crying, was something the Children would do too, Nienna had taught them that, that Arda would contain much pain, much sadness… but she hadn’t expected to feel it here. The life she created was supposed to grow, to fade only on a cycle, or perhaps be harvested to nourish other life.  _This,_ this was not supposed to happen, she thought with another sob, and she supposed this must be the feeling of grief Nienna spoke of.  
  
A noise sounded behind her and Yavanna turned, hoping to see something still alive, but instead she found Aulë. He must have come from his mountains; his form, though it too appeared somewhat like that of the Children, was hard as rock and caked with dirt, as she supposed must happen if he worked with materials deep in the earth long enough.  
  
He said nothing at first, taking in the charred scene around them, and Yavanna hurriedly dried her eyes and tried to regain control of her emotions. She hadn’t known what grief was before now, but she didn’t know if she wanted anyone to see her like this.  
  
“Are you all right?” Aulë finally asked simply, coming to stand beside her.   
  
“I… do not know… I made trees here, and they grew and lived, and now they are gone. I don’t understand, they should be here still, they should last. I had plans for kelvar to live here with them! Why would this happen?”   
  
“It was Melkor.” Aulë explained grimly. “He did the same to a mountain range I had up North. I didn’t see him flatten it, but I heard him laughing in the distance when he saw me discover what he’d done.”   
  
“Melkor?” At first Yavanna was confused, they all knew Melkor thought differently from the rest of them, but she hadn’t thought he would want to  _destroy_ their works. Her gaze hardened and she repeated his name angrily. “Melkor.”   
  
Her vine-like form stretched and grew taller and thicker, and she could feel it shaking again, but this felt different than before. If that had been grief, she supposed this must be rage.

“Yavanna…” Aulë’s form, still all hard rocks, grew to match hers in size, but he blocked her movement when she tried to leave the grove.   
  
“Get out of the way!” She snarled. “I’ll go burn him, see how he likes it, so he knows how the trees felt!”   
  
“No.” Aulë grabbed her arm, gently but firmly, his eyes holding hers intensely. “We’ll go to Manwë. Fighting Melkor on our own isn’t the answer.”   
  
“I didn’t say you had to come,” she said angrily, pulling her arm away forcefully, but Aulë’s form was strong, too, and he didn’t let go.   
  
“If you go, I-” His intense stare changed to a frown. “I don’t want you to go alone. But I also don’t think we should fight Melkor. We’ll talk to Manwë, and then you can grow new trees here, right?”   
  
Yavanna sighed and nodded, shrinking her form down again after a moment. “Fine, I will go with you to see Manwë first, but no, I can not grow trees again here so soon, the nutrients in the soil look too burned, Melkor’s fire must have been too strong… besides, they are living things. Nothing I create will, or could, ever be the same as the one before it.”  
  
Yavanna knelt down to the ground again, tears welling in her eyes again and dripping down her leafy form like dew drops.  
  
“I understand.” Aulë bent down beside her. “I am sorry about your trees.”   
  
“I am sorry about your mountains.” Yavanna answered after a time.  
  
He shrugged. “I can build mountains again, and I can build them stronger this time. Perhaps this was meant to happen, we must learn how to create our works to endure.”   
  
“I don’t know if I want to believe that, that this had to be meant to be.” Yavanna watched singed blades of grass crumble at the lightest touch of her fingertips, and she sighed.   
  
“I am sorry, again.” Aulë told her.   
  
“Thank you.” Yavanna offered a small smile, and Aulë placed his hand gently on top of hers.   
  
Warmth spread at his touch and she glanced up at him, feeling a new sensation spread through her when her eyes met his. If before had been grief and then rage, she wasn’t sure what this new emotion was, but she liked it far better.


	2. Memories (Aulë and Celebrían)

**2\. Your Favorite male Vala**  
  
I don’t even know why I made this, I don’t have a favorite male Vala, it’s a tie between Aulë and Manwë, but I’m going with Aulë.  
  
I have this headcanon that he remembers  _everything_ about every dwarf, and about all of his Maiar, and about all of the students among the Eldar he’s ever had. So here’s Aulë showing Celebrían how good his memory is when she visits his forges for the first time in Valinor.

 

~~_______________________________________________________________~~

 

Celebrían liked to go for long walks around Valinor, since in her early days there. Estë had suggested that it might be helpful, to replace painful memories with newer ones, to find things she enjoyed in Valinor. For the first few years she had stayed in the quieter areas; in Irmo’s gardens, where the air was so thick with peace it seemed nothing could shatter it, not even her own anxieties. Or Ulmo’s beaches, where it was easy to walk for hours without having to come across another soul if one didn’t wish to. Then she’d explored Yavanna’s pastures, the deep quiet forests, the lush growing fields, the warm open meadows, and there was peace there as well. They were less empty, but everyone was always engrossed in their work, Maiar pouring all their thought into plants and animals, or elves busy learning from Yavanna and her Maiar, and Celebrían was free to wander without having to speak to too many others when she didn’t wish to.  
  
So it was a long time before she found herself at Aulë’s forges, because they were not exactly peaceful. There was constant bustling and hammering, plus heat and smoke from the forges, and laughter and song always echoed around the stony areas where craftsmen worked, day and night. But on her better days Celebrían liked the action, and the general merry mood that seemed contagious to everyone else there. So today she found herself, for the first time, venturing inside and admiring the incredible architectural detail in every inch of Aulë’s forges, (of course it was beautiful, he and his Maiar must have built it themselves,) as she wondered about all her Noldor kin who had studied there before her.  
  
“Lady Celebrían.”  
  
She hadn’t meant to startle so much at the voice, and she blushed slightly before turning.  
  
“I apologize for startling you,” Aulë spoke softly. “I only wanted to welcome you, I haven’t seen you in my forges before. Have you interest in learning?”  
  
“Oh, no. It was never one of my talents. I was only admiring, everything here is so beautiful.”  
  
“Thank you.” Aulë’s warm smile lit up his eyes as well. “You are certainly welcome to do that, as many of your kin have before you.”  
  
“Most of my mother’s kin came here to learn from you, didn’t they?” Celebrían asked.  
  
“They did.” Aulë affirmed. “Some more than others. I could tell you stories about them, if you would like.”  
  
“I would like that, very much.” Celebrían nodded, and Aulë beckoned her to follow him to his private halls, where he had been busy forging armor, and a few Maiar were milling about, tending to fires or cleaning materials.  
  
Aulë set to work finishing armor he was gifting to some Vanyar. Celebrían sat across from him and watched him work, while he told her funny stories about Fëanor being overly determined as a young student, driving his relatives mad at a young age because he refused to go home until he deemed whatever he was making perfect, which he rarely felt anything was. Even with everything Fëanor had done, it was clear Aulë was still fond of his student.  
  
He also told her stories of Finarfin being so determined to show a Noldor’s skill in craft, even though he never really had the patience for the work, despite his endless patience in other areas of life. He told her how Galadriel was the same way, as the youngest of the house of Finwë, absolutely determined to prove herself as talented as the rest of her kin before her in everything she did. How she and Finrod challenged each other to forge difficult things all the time, and had competitions with their other brothers as well, which despite her disadvantage in age, Galadriel often won.  
  
The normal pangs of missing her mother were there when she thought about Galadriel, but Aulë was a great storyteller, and he had her laughing more than Celebrían could remember laughing in months.  
  
“Tell me about Middle-earth,” he asked after a while. “Did you ever have a chance to meet many dwarves there?”  
  
“Some, companies came through Imladris from time to time, and we had envoys to set up trade agreements with Imladris from time to time.”  
  
“Oh? Did you meet them, who came?”  
  
“I worked a lot with a dwarf named Ním on agreements.” Celebrían searched her mind for other names, but Ním was the only one she could remember at the moment. Elrond had dealt with most of those treaties, at the other times dwarves visited her parents had been visiting also, and Celebrían and Galadriel had been occupied keeping her father out of the way of the dwarves. He was wise enough to know it wasn’t logical to dislike them all for Thingol’s murder, but that never seemed to actually stop him.  
  
“Ah, Ním!” Aulë, to her surprise, remembered the dwarf woman, apparently. “She was the daughter of Mís, she had a particular love for silver things. She made beautiful cutlery, it was famed all throughout her people, at the time.”  
  
“That’s right, she was!” Celebrían had forgotten.  
  
“Her daughter inherited that talent too. And her grandson, too, was fairly well known.”  
  
Celebrían was struck by how much Aulë seemed to remember about each of the dwarves, especially when he started listing most of Ním’s family tree. Of course he knew that much about those he had created, she thought, but still. There were a lot of dwarves to keep track of, if he knew so much about all of them.   
  
Aulë must have read her surprise in her face, and he paused his speech about dwarves to laugh a little. “Are you surprised I remember so much about each of my children?”  
  
“No.” Celebrían paused. “Well, yes, but I suppose I shouldn’t be.”  
  
“I have a good memory. For my children, and for my students.” Aulë tilted his head. “There’s something else I could show you.”  
  
He led her to a door at the back of his forge, and down a long staircase. It led to a room that looked like a warehouse of sorts, with hundreds upon hundreds of shelves lined with objects. As she got a closer look she noticed that some objects were large, some small, some beautifully made, and some not so much.  
  
“It’s a tradition, among my students.” Aulë explained. “It started with my Maiar, everyone who studies with me leaves me something they make here. Then the Eldar began doing it too. Sometimes it’s something big, sometimes it’s the first thing they forged on their own, or something special to them. I have the one your mother made over here…”  
  
He seemed to have everything from his greatest students like Nerdanel and Fëanor, to adorable, less well made trinkets that looked to be made by small children. Nothing was labeled and there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to how the objects were stored, but somehow Aulë seemed to know exactly where everything was, leading her down three rows, up four, to a small silver ring in a box.  
  
“This was the first thing your mother ever forged without help. She was only just about fifty, I believe.” He told her, carefully taking the ring down and handing it to Celebrían. “I remember Angrod made a bet with her that she couldn’t finish it in three days. She did, of course.”  
  
“Of course she did.” Celebrían laughed, taking the ring from Aulë and examining it closer. It reminded her somehow of Nenya, with the shape of the designs carved into the smooth silver surface, though it wasn’t nearly so well made. It wasn’t stellar work, really, but it had a beauty to it.  
  
“You should keep it.” Aulë offered.  
  
“Oh, no, I couldn’t! She made it for you, that’s why she left it here.”  
  
“Borrow it then.” Aulë smiled. “You can return it when you see your mother again. Until then, I think she would want you to have it.”  
  
“All right.” Celebrían agreed. “Thank you so much, for everything today.”  
  
“Of course.” Aulë nodded. “I hope you’ll visit my forge again sometime, I’m sure I have more stories to tell.”  
  
“I promise to.” Celebrían smiled, slipping the ring into her pocket and holding her hand around it tightly.


	3. Until Next Time (Yavanna/Aulë)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Favorite Canon pairing: 
> 
> Yavanna/Aulë, of course!! I love the headcanon that they fight all the time over semi-unimportant things. They are an old married couple… they love each other more than anything, but they bicker like two passionate, cranky, incredibly powerful gods, too. They do recognize that their creations aren’t always going to mesh, (See: Ents/dwarves.) Like when Yavanna tells Aulë “But because you hid this from me” it shows that when they do work together, they can create things harmoniously, and they know that. But they’re really passionate about everything they do, at least enough to not always want to compromise. So, I think they still get defensive of their creations from time to time.
> 
> I’m pretty sure variations of this exact scenario happen at least once an age:

They hadn’t spoken in almost a fortnight, after one of their usual fights. Yavanna had retreated to her Pastures, Aulë to his forges, and neither was yet willing to give in and make the first move at reconciliation and risk losing the argument.

They couldn’t avoid each other at Valar councils though, especially since their thrones at Máhanaxar were beside each other.

Yavanna took her seat beside him without a word, sparing him only a sideways glance in that annoyingly superior fashion she had, which he had to admit she did well.

“I’m surprised you actually left your flowers and insects for a mere council meeting, I thought nothing could part you from them these days.” It was about the most generic insult he had for her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Have your forges burned down? I didn’t think you’d left them all month; I’m surprised you finally have. By the way, you have soot in your beard, do you know? Been too close to your fires?”

He rubbed his chin hastily with the back of his hand, and he flushed when it came away blackened. Yavanna laughed, but before Aulë had a chance to say anything back Manwë gave them a stern look to silence them so he could begin the council meeting.

Yavanna and Aulë spent the entire time taking opposing sides on issues just to annoy each other, so after a few minutes of heatedly yelling at each other about a trivial matter of mediating trade between the three tribes of Eldar, they were banned from speaking.

Aulë really did care about his position on the matter and furiously glared unblinkingly at Yavanna, but this only made her smug grin dissolve into hardly controlled laughter. And as angry as he was with her, she was so beautiful when she laughed, damn it.

As usual everyone else ignored them, except Vána, who kept shaking her head at her sister.

Manwë finally decided on a conclusion close enough to the one Aulë had been advocating for, to Yavanna’s disappointment, and he dismissed council before Yavanna and Aulë could start any worse drama. At least, any more drama that the rest had to stick around for.

“What did you do that for, you know my ideas were good!” Aulë thundered when the two of them were the only ones left.

“You always think your plans are the only plans. Others have important talents, too!” she hissed.

“What is this really about?”

“You know what it’s about!” Her eyes flashed darkly.

“That, well, that argument was weeks ago.”

“Have you changed your mind?”

“What do you think?”

“See what I mean! You always insist your way is the only way. If only Eru had instilled things like “compromise” and “patience” in your personality!”

“I think you could have done with a bit more of those too, dear,” he spat back.

“Did Eru purposefully intend for you to be so infuriating, or did you make that up all on your own, like those dwarves you were never supposed to make?”

“Like you didn’t create your own children too!”

“They were in the Song! I know how to ask for permission!”

That was a very old argument, and one neither of them actually truly cared about… they just glared at each other for a minute, before he spoke again.

“Yavanna?” Aulë started more softly, and she answered with only a head tilt. “Do you… uh, do you actually remember what it was we were originally fighting about?”

She burst out laughing, covering her mouth with both hands. “No!”

“Neither do I!” He hadn’t wanted to ask until he was sure she had forgotten too, in case he was wrong and it made her even more angry with him.

“You infuriate me so often, it can be hard to keep track.”

“Yes, I know that feeling.” Aulë grinned as she stepped towards him and he took her hands in his.

“I love you,” she told him.

“I love you, too. Should we call a cease fire?”

“Until next time,” she nodded, her eyes sparkling.

“Until next time.” Aulë laughingly agreed, pulling her in close against him when she leaned to kiss him.


End file.
